Sons of Gondor
by Anie Melwasul
Summary: Faramir is captured by unknown creatures while on a routine mission and badly wounded. Will he make it back to his White City and what is this that Gandalf is doing? Read it! R&R please .
1. Chapter 1

**I**

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A/N: This is slightly A/U! Frodo and the gang did not sail across the ocean. I nearly cried when that happened...

* * *

Faramir felt his head roll to one side. There was only rock behind him. Cruel, unmoving rock that dug into his wounds and created more where there were none before. He felt his eyes lull but refused to give into the shadows that threatened to claim him once more. He was struggling, it was true, but he would struggle.

It had been routine. Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing to fear. He and several Rangers from Ithilien had gone to inspect a bit of an uprising that had been rumored. It had seemed like little, and they had prepared as such. Never before had Faramir felt so ill informed on what they were to be facing and how he regretted it!

"Do you wish to speak now?" a voice hissed at him in the dark.

He'd been beaten mercilessly for a stretch of time he could not identify. He had not called out, and for that he was thankful. He would not give them the satisfaction of even that, much less the information they sought. "May hell take you," he rasped, his voice raw from holding back the screams of pain.

The creature – for that is all he knew of it – chuckled and its eyes glowed fiercely in the darkness of the cave. "You shall come around or you shall die," it said, its voice low and menacing. "Never to see the White City again, eh, Steward of Gondor?"

Any hopes that they thought he was simply a Ranger flew from his mind. It had been a distant hope, but there nevertheless. How he wished to see his city! He'd be due back within the next two days. It would be within the next week that people might start questioning the Rangers' and Steward's whereabouts. Even longer, perhaps, before anyone might go in search for him. He knew by then he'd be long dead if he could find no means of escape.

Faramir heard the creature move away and he was left alone in the darkness. Left to think of what he had left behind. A fiancé awaiting his return to marry. Eowyn… She would be worried, he was sure. To cause her duress was the last thing he wished. Though not only would she be waiting, but the Fellowship had returned to Minas Tirith to enjoy the company of their King and friends from their long journey.

* * *

One Week Earlier

* * *

His departure had been delayed for a day when long missed friends appeared at the gates of the White City. Two Hobbits per horse – Merry and Pippin on one with Frodo and Sam on the other – Legolas and Gimli riding on another, and Gandalf on his own came into the city with smiles brimming their faces and they were warmly greeted. Faramir couldn't help but smile as Pippin dismounted in far too much of a hurry and tumbled over himself, a grin still plastered on his features. 

"You look to be on your way out, young Steward," Gandalf observed.

"We were," Faramir responded. "But I do believe we might delay one more day."

Gandalf had smiled in his way and moved on around, speaking in low tones with the King of Gondor. Faramir watched them carefully and turned his eyes to Legolas, who shrugged his slim shoulders in a way that might only be elegant for an Elf. "I fear I do not know," was all he said as he dismounted.

"Gandalf has been up to something, to be sure," Gimli added in. "Don't know what yet."

"Best to trust the White Wizard to do what is best," Faramir said quietly as they returned to the castle.

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They had eaten together as they should. Aragorn listened to the tails Merry and Pippin happily told and smile brightly when Frodo piped up about Sam's engagement.

"Engaged?" the King asked, laughing outloud when the poor Hobbit blushed crimson. "Yes… That is good. Things are returning to normal then…"

"As well as they might," Frodo murmured. "So much has changed…" His eyes locked suddenly with Faramir's and he turned them down.

"Very much, that's true, Master Baggins," Faramir responded quietly. "But we move on."

Silence filled the room and nearly smothered the Fellowship and their friends until Arwen cleared her throat and stood. "Perhaps it would be best to clear everything away so as Faramir might prepare for his journey tomorrow?" she offered a word into the stillness.

"Journey?" Pippin repeated. "But we just got here! You're not leavin', are you?"

Faramir chuckled at this. "I'm afraid I am, Pippin. I shan't be gone long. A week and a half, maybe? That should be it."

"Are we staying that long?" Pippin asked, turning to Merry.

"Yes…" Merry said with an exaggerated sigh. "We've been over this, Pip. We're here for a month! It's too far to travel to not stay long!"

"I was supposed to pack for a month!"

The fearful stillness had successfully been lifted from the air as everyone laughed with and at young Pippin Took. The Hobbit sat for a moment, wondering what was so funny, then joined in it, never really grasping what everyone was laughing about.

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Faramir had left the next day, despite Pippin's protests. He had a mission assigned, he explained, and it was his duty to fulfill it. They'd ridden and been attacked. It came so suddenly that the horses didn't even have time to sense the danger. It was a peaceful, easy gallop one moment and an ambush the next.

"Take cover!" had been the Captain and Steward's command. What else was there to do? They were outnumbered and caught unawares. His horse stumbled from one wound too many at the same time he felt a stray arrow rip into his side and both beast and master fell, though the latter was pinned under the first. The world spun around him as he struggled to get from under his fallen horse.

"Looky here," a voice sneered above him.

"I think we've caught ourselves a prize in this one," another answered.

"I'd say so. Trapped there, good sir?" a third asked with a frightening laugh.

Faramir struggled harder to free himself, but to no avail. All he saw was the boot of the creature nearest to him, as the sun directly above them blurred out its face.

"Don't struggle, your lordship," the creature hissed as it placed its rough boot on the Steward's chest to keep him down. "You'll just wear yourself out…"

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The next several days were a blur of pain. His wounds had not been treated and he was sure that it was infected as he felt as if his skin were on fire. He dreamt of the day his father had mistaken him for dead. He dreamt of the flames and the screams and woke in shear terror.

He was sure that his men were all dead. They hadn't been needed and only he was in this small cave. They'd left him there, chained at first, and they took them off when he became too weak to run. So there he lay: wounded, weakened, and without hope in a dark cave with creatures he did not know. He felt utterly miserable. He longed for Minas Tirith…


	2. Chapter 2

**II

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**

He'd gone up to the tower and back down again, through the kitchen, circling near the throne room to take a peek and find that Aragorn was not there, nor even Arwen, and finally he made it to the white tree that stood tall and blooming. Peregrin Took sighed deeply and took a seat on the ground next to the grand symbol of Gondor. "Where are they?" he murmured.

"Where are who?"

Pippin spun around, a surprised look on his features and jumped up. "Merry! I've been looking all over!"

"Not very hard then," his friend answered with a grin. "Stop off in the kitchen?"

"Well… yes."

"That would be why you didn't find anyone as I know you had your head stuck in the cupboards. "

Pippin grinned, avoiding an answer. "Where _is _everyone, Merry? I started out looking for you, went on to look for Aragorn or Frodo or Sam or anybody for that matter! Everyone's disappeared…"

"We're all about. Gandalf is the only one gone."

"Gandalf gone?"

"You didn't know?"

"I'm always the last to know everything!"

"He left with the sun's rays," Legolas said from behind the two Hobbits. "Towards the South, but he would not say to where he would be going."

"Why'd he leave without telling anyone?" Pippin demanded.

"Seems like you mighta been the only one he didn't tell," Gimli chuckled, a smirk on his lips at the Hobbit's indignant look.

"Why's that?"

"Oh I don't know, Pip… Because the entire city would have known within the hour, I suppose," Merry said with a shrug and a smile. "He'll be back."

"First Faramir and then Gandalf… Why does everyone keep leaving?"

"Something has been troubling him," Legolas murmured thoughtfully. "I dare not speculate what, but there is something. Aragorn said that he saw him up late the last several nights. Shifting through old books and scrolls."

"But for what?" Gimli questioned.

"I bet we could find out," Merry said quickly, a twinkle in his eye that told the others to be wary.

"How?" Pippin asked.

"Well, there's bound to be some book he didn't put back or something. Let's take a looksee, what do you say?"

Pippin beamed at the idea and the two Hobbits were off instantly, leaving the Elf and the Dwarf standing by the tree. Legolas looked down and Gimli up.

"You think we should go after them?" Gimli asked.

"Well… They could get themselves into trouble. They're quite good at it."

"I'd say we should tag along… Just to keep them out of trouble of course."

"Of course," the Elf agreed. Their eyes met briefly, each seeing the mirth in the other's and they were off after the two Halflings faster than one might have thought possible.

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Gandalf had left that morning just before sunrise and as the sun was setting towards the West now, he found himself nearing his destination. He'd tried to time it perfectly. If all went as planned, he would return within a day of Faramir, meeting him and everyone else with a surprise that could make whole what had been broken.

The White Wizard neared what to any other man might have looked like a dark passage through low-slung trees, but not to the keen eye. The keen eye would have seen if not felt the eyes that watched from the darkness' depths. One that knew this forest would know it was what nightmares might be made of.

"You've journeyed very far, Mithrandir."

Gandalf paused, hushing Shadowfax's nervousness by stroking the animal's mane. He slid from the horse's back and bowed to the golden haired figure before him. "My Lady Galadriel. I had thought you to leave Middle Earth."

"My time here grows short, my old friend, but I still linger. As do many who do not wish to leave these shores. As do many down the path you wish to go tonight. Truly you must know that it is folly."

"Folly?" Gandalf echoed. "To bring them together once more?"

"What is done is done and is meant to be. It is not for us to decide."

"Then I shall bare the consequences."

Galadriel, with her head raised high, looked upon the old Wizard. "I shall only warn you once. This is not your place. You have not let your love for these Men and Hobbits cloud your judgement so before. He is not to return."

"And you will stop him? I fear, My Lady, that I did not come here for counsel with you. I came to fulfill something long overdue. There has been much suffering since the War. Too much."

"You wish to see them smile again."

"I do."

"And you decided this now?"

"At last, yes."

The Elvish woman stepped aside. "I cannot detour you, Mithrandir, but heed my warning if you will: You will not do this deed without more coming about. It shall not turn out the way you wish it, I know. I have seen it. I know it."

"Then it shall turn the way it turns," Gandalf replied as he moved past her and onto the dark trail, leaving the Lady of Light behind. She could not venture there, he knew. Few could and have hope to return.

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"I've got something!" Pippin announced, holding up an old book that he'd uncovered.

"How do you know that is what we're looking for, laddie?"

"Well it's the only one that doesn't have any dust on it," Pippin responded, quite proud of his accomplishment.

"I don't think this is what we're looking for, Pip," Merry said as he flipped through the book. "Nope, can't be."

"What's it about?"

"Soul's Trail," the other Hobbit answered. "It's an old fairy tale. Haven't you heard it?"

"No."

"They say that there is a trail hidden amongst the darkest trees," Legolas began. "Only the cleverest of Men and other creatures found their ways out. Many a person has been lost to it, but no one has talked of it as anything other than a story for children in… well before your time, certainly."

"What does it do?" Merry asked, intrigued.

Legolas felt a smile tug at his lips. "It is said to be a trail that leads to Soul's Forest, naturally. Where the souls of those not ready to pass on go. The ones who did not leave us in peace. Who feel a connection to this place."

"Why would Gandalf read a story book?" Pippin asked, his mind working hard.

"He didn't," Gimli huffed. "Just moved it to get to something else! Now hurry it up, you two!"

"No one said you had to help," Merry answered, frowning a bit and fingering the book Pippin had found. "Legolas, you said it was a place for those who did not leave this world in peace?"

"Yes."

"Like those that died in war?"

"Yes, I should say so. And those that died with a burden."

Merry nodded, eyes following the page he had turned to. He jumped at the sound of the voice at the door. "I think, Merry, after you are finished, I should very much like to read it."

The small group in the tallest tower of the library turned to see Frodo at the door. He'd approached so silently that no one had heard, not even the Elf. Merry grinned at this and handed it to his friend. "I've never been much for sitting down and reading anyway," he said with a wave of his hand. "Tell me how it is."

"I will," Frodo promised.

"Were you looking for us?" Pippin asked.

The former Ring-barer nodded. "Yes, Lady Arwen said dinner will be served shortly and that perhaps you would all care to-" He was cut off as Merry and Pippin ran on either side of him, gabbing him along the way, and scooted down the stairs hollering this and that about dinner and a good smoke after. Their jolly voices and Frodo's rare laughter echoed as Legolas and Gimli watched them disappear.

"So should we be off?" the Elf asked.

"For dinner? Certainly."

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The next thing he knew was the cold. Icy cold that stung every inch of his exposed skin. Ice water drenched his hair, what was left of his tunic, and through the rest of his clothes, and he knew fromwhere it cameHe shivered and his grey eyes open. Faramir found himself face to face with the creature that had been with him the longest.

It was the first time he'd seen its face. It was orc-like, though with Human features and eyes of bright gold. It sneered at him and hissed, "What are you looking at, Human Not what you expected?"

"The majority of orcs were wiped out with their master nearly a year ago."

"I am no orc, though not far from it, I suppose. Have they finally been taken out? We found ourselves far from our kin. Much as you now."

The creature took hold of Faramir by his shoulder, hauling him up roughly and pressed him against the rigid wall of the cave. The Steward did all he could not to cry out as he felt wounds break open again and his entire body shudder from the maltreatment.

"You want to go home, Steward of Gondor?"

"I will tell you nothing of what you wish to know," Faramir growled. "Do what you will to me, but I shall not speak a word of our secrets."

The creature backhanded him roughly and he felt his knees give way and sagged back. It was the calloused hand on his throat that kept him from falling. "We've found new uses for you."

"And what might those be?"

"Your death. I will show King Elessar that we are not to be troubled by his crown. He _will _pull his Rangers out of our territory."

"You kill me and he'll hunt you down. My death will not stop them from finishing the job they set out to do."

"Is that so? Your men would not mourn? They would not be troubled?"

Faramir managed to hold his head high in defiance of his captor. "What they do they will do for Gondor. They will not falter."

The creature smiled. It was a sickening movement as half-decayed yellow teeth were shown from behind malformed lips and several of the sharper ones caught the Steward's eye. He couldn't help but turn away. "Look at me, Human," the creature commanded and jerked Faramir's head back so that he was looking. He found himself facing a jagged knife. "It is a two day ride to Minas Tirith, when stopping for rest, is it not? Of course it is. You'll live just that long, I'd say. Perhaps long enough for them to see how much you suffer..."

Faramir felt a knot form in his stomach just as the orc-like creature pulled back its blade. The next thing he knew he was gasping from the pain just below his ribs. His captor sneered at him and he felt himself sinking into darkness. "No no," the dark voice murmured into his ear, twisting the knife harshly. "You won't be sleeping on us." The pain jerked him back suddenly and he struggled.

"Don't move so much, Human, or the poison will run quickly."

Faramir froze where he was. "Poison?"

"They will mourn you, or rather, what you had to do just to die and be rid of the pain you will suffer." That said, the creature ripped the knife from the Steward and let him fall to the rough floor and lie there. Faramir was only slightly aware of the feet shuffling off and then shuffling back moments later. Two of the creatures lifted him up, none to gently, and draped him over a horse. It was then that he knew no more as he sank into darkness surrounded by fiery pain.

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A/N: I can't give away too much, though you might have already guessed what Gandalf's doing, but I'd like to give credit where credit is deserved. So just know that Anna Maxwell helped me out with thinking up where Gandalf is going. It should be explained in the next chapter, so no worries :P

Lindahoyland: Haha! My terrible spelling strikes again… I ASKED Anna if I had any blaring mistakes when she read it lol. Oh well, I suppose she missed it too. But thank you very much for pointing that out :) Yes, I feel sorry for him too, but I do tend to torture my favorite characters… Faramir is who I've been focusing on as of late, so poor guy… :)

Sarah: I'll try not to leave cliffhangers too soon. I don't plan for this to be overly long… hopefully, therefore perhaps I'll finish it lol! Who knows? I'm perfectly horrible with finishing stories…. But I'll try.


	3. Chapter 3

**III

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**

The way was dark. The only light he had was his staff and even that had dimmed. He could feel the presence of souls all about him, turned restless by the horrors of war and life. Gandalf continued on.

"You come here unbidden, White Wizard," a voice murmured in his ear. "Whom do you seek?"

"Boromir of Gondor," Gandalf answered.

"He has long been watching you," the voice, distinctly female now. Though he could not bring himself to recognize it, he was sure that she had seen him before. "You and the Fellowship. He has longed for your company."

"Quickly now," Gandalf ordered, "and I shall help him gain what he wishes."

"You think to take him from this place?"

"Bring him forth."

"I cannot. Not even for you."

"Very well," the Wizard murmured as he set the tip of his staff on the leaf-covered ground. He chanted softly, the glow from the staff gaining power and burst through the darkness.

"Alright!" the voice seemed to gasp. "Patience! And peace! Enough suffering here without bringing the light to burn our eyes… Your white light…"

"Then you will bring him."

"I will bring him."

There was a swirl of leaves and mist and Gandalf held his hand before his eyes. When he moved it again he saw one he had not seen in far too long. "Boromir."

The Son of Gondor grinned widely. "You! And we thought you dead!" he said jovially. "What _are_ you doing here, Gandalf?"

"I've come for you."

"For me?" Boromir echoed. "Is that possible?"

The Wizard gave a knowing smile that told him that no, under normal circumstances, but he had always pulled strings before to get what he wanted. The Man grinned. "Then I thank you, but tell me, when you left from Minas Tirith, did you hear anything of Faramir? They gave me sight over my home, but only that. He was due home two days ago, from what they've said."

"No, in two days."

"Truly? Time means so little here… I loose track of it."

"Then we must not do so now. You are much missed by your friends."

"Then we shall leave? Just like that? No one will stop us?"

"Oh, they might try," Gandalf chuckled.

"But you can't take him alone!" the voice from earlier whispered into the cool air. "The balance shall be off."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Boromir growled, irritated by a voice he'd long heard.

"As Galadriel, the Lady of Light said! It is what she spoke of."

"For all her riddles," Gandalf grumbled. "And what, prey tell, should we do to correct the balance?"

"Father and son shall not be parted."

Both Wizard and Man turned to see Denethor, former Steward of Gondor standing with his eyes locked on Boromir.

"Then away with us, if that is all I have to suffer. But understand this, Lord Denethor, you hold no power in Gondor. The King has returned and named a new Steward."

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"My Lord…" a hesitant voice came through the throne room.

Aragorn looked up from the papers he'd been working on, keen eyes locking onto the frightened boy-soldier that stood at the door. He forced his expression to soften and motioned for the boy to enter. "Yes?"

"M-my K-king El-Elessar," the boy stuttered, "there are many men approaching Minas Tirith."

"Many men?" Aragorn repeated, standing from his seat. "From what direction? What flag? Speak boy!"

"I don't know, my King! They sent me to fetch you… They would have sent for L-lord Faramir, but he is s-still away, Sire."

"Thank you, then. You've done well," Aragorn murmured as he moved past the shaking lad and out the door. He'd expected Faramir's return to come quickly, but he could not wait if there was an enemy riding. He would very much miss his Steward fighting at his side, but perhaps it might not come to that…

"My Lord!" the boy called out suddenly.

"Yes?"

"I f-forgot to tell you, Sire…"

"Well speak up."

"The White Wizard Mithrandir has r-returned, Sire. With two others, though who I dare not say! Surely he walks with ghosts!"

"Ghosts?" he asked, but the lad was gone. He shook his head and continued down the hall and into the large room in which he knew he'd find the rest of the Fellowship.

"Gandalf's back and there's an army coming!" Pippin announced as the King entered room.

"So I hear, on both accounts." He turned to the Wizard. "What news, Gandalf?"

"I have little of the approaching enemy, other than they are an army ready to wage war."

"Yes!" Pippin all but shouted. "And-"

"Not _now_, Pippin!" Merry and Sam growled out together, causing the overly excited Hobbit to shrink back.

"I just wanted to tell him about Boromir…"

Aragorn's eyes flashed suddenly. "Boromir?"

"Well the surprise was thrown out the window when we found an attacking army," Boromir said as he stepped into view. "It was going to be a marvelous entry, but…"

"Boromir…" the King breathed. "Is that you? Truly you?"

The other Man grinned. "Yes, it should be. I will tell you that having a White Wizard march into the Soul's Forest is the most interesting thing I've seen yet."

Aragorn crossed the space between them and pulled his friend into a tight embrace. "It is good to have you here."

"And look here! I return just in time for battle! Has my brother come home yet? I truly wish to fight along side with him."

"Faramir is still away, but should return shortly," Aragorn answered as he motioned for the others to follow him out the door. "We should prepare."

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Faramir felt the horse he had ridden on slow to a trot and his eyes fluttered open. It hurt… That was his one thought at first. His entire body was on fire with the slow creeping poison running in his veins. They'd stopped only once when they had seen their captive nearly fall off his ride. It had been then that they'd bandaged the wound to staunch the bleeding. That had, thankfully, been early on. They wanted him dead, that was true, but not before they made their way to the city gates.

"Your king will weep for you?" one of the creatures asked tauntingly.

Faramir, struggling to keep his breathing regular, could do no more than glare. He knew they were approaching the gates and he felt the creature drag him off the horse and to his own, draped across the beast in the most uncomfortable of fashions. They stood, these horrible creatures, and called out to the city. To Aragorn. "King Elessar of Gondor! Come see what prize we've taken from your kingdom!"

The king in question appeared on his high walls, dressed not in kingly robes but in those that he wore to battle a year before. He stood with his head high and defiant of any enemy that might march on his city. The city he had sworn to protect. His proud eyes grew wide as the creature pulled Faramir free and threw him to the ground. The Steward landed hard and lay there.

"Will you surrender?"

"I tell you this: while I stand no man or beast shall take this city!" Aragorn declared loudly, nodding to the archers on the walls. The arrows flew and the battle began.

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Aragorn touched few steps on his race down to the lowest level of the city. Boromir met him half way. "I will go get him."

"He looked barely alive, if at all," the King murmured. "But we will bring him into the walls."

"I will not let them kill him," Boromir growled. "They will not have my brother." That vowed, he moved to the gate, fully ready to take on the army by himself in need arose.

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Lindahoyland: Ah… My spelling is always bad. I always get words mixed up. Very sorry and thank you for the corrections. Thanks for the review :)


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